It was on Sunday morning, whist I was riding on my red motorbike on the lonely road to kiang Tendaba, from a distance, I saw a red conic shape reflector on the middle of the road. Something told me that there was a nearby police check point. So I reduced the acceleration of the four cylinder engine and pushed the hydraulic disc brake which gradually reduced my velocity.
From my helmet, I could see a traffic police officer looking at me steadily. He frowned as if it was the 19th day of Ramadan. The English grammar he scolded me, told me two things: that he either gradually graduated from Lamin Kerewan Community Development Preparatory Technical Junior and Senior Secondary School or a dropout from Nusrat Senior, obviously NOT from #St #Peter‘s the school of legends.
He instructed me with gesture to pull over. I did just that without a second thought. As I parked near the road waiting for him to come, I was thinking what I have done wrong. He started walking majestically towards me. I could hear the sound of his shoes that frictioned and ricocheted with the dark basaltic road. Well, his uniform wasn’t neat as I expected, but also remembering the carbon monoxides emitted from very many different rickety of vehicles on the road, I can’t blame him. His eyes told me that he might be in his late fifties, accentuated with grey moustaches. Those moustaches of his, reminded me of one of my favourite Indian film character called #Makambo. He was somewhat chubby with a dusty black shoe which has not been polished for a very long time. Well, I would describe him to be effortlessly handsome using African standard.
“Your papers.” he said. I had to cease the vibrating motion of the diesel engine and quickly disengaged the gears. I took my bag, pulled its zip and fumbled my hand inside and brought out an A4 size envelope where I kept my motorbike documents and handed it to him. When he pushed his hand in the brown envelope, he picked my new #ECOWAS biometric Identity Card (ID). I kept quiet.
When he gazed at my ID for some time and later realized that he was reading the content upside down, he later turned the card again for the second viewing. Then he shouted *‘What! You Come come come, you mean you have been riding this motorbike since nineteen eighties (1980s), you never change this license’? That was a bolt from the blue. From that statement of his, I knew that I was in a hot vicious soup of misery, but the viscosity of this soup depends on my neutralizer. “Sir this is my ID card not my license” I intervened . The beast in him boasted out and shouted
Read out for 102
Author ✍🏽Sulayman Yourhigness Jammeh🇬🇲